A Teenage Murderer
by Shrink To Be
Summary: It’s not Harry’s fault. He’s being possessed…This is a Harry goes insane fic. Character death and mental problems. On hold.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: ** It's not Harry's fault. He's being possessed…Harry goes insane fic. Character death and mental problems. On hold.

**Author Notes:** This is probably the longest story I have ever written. I have loads more but I haven't typed it. There is meant to be a very long plot line to this but as I've mentioned in my profile, I just can't be bothered to finish long stories- even if I have it all planned out in my head. Feel free to email me if you want to finish it for me and I can tell you some ideas that I had in mind. Please review

He screamed in frustration. He banged his fists against the wall. Emotions had overpowered him yet again, and now Harry was a murderer.

The last month had been nothing far from hell for Harry. He led his godfather to his death at the end of the last term. This had been eating away at his mind. Regret, sadness, guilt and anger were just few of the many emotions in which the fifteen-year-old boy had been feeling. Add the prophecy to this equation, along with a week stuck at the Dursleys then you have a very thin, exhausted and depressed Harry.

Harry had been running everything over in his head. Trying to sort out his feelings. But it was impossible. He did not know how he really felt. You might say that he was putting on a brave face. The truth was, he didn't know how he felt. He still felt numb and cold with grief.

He only sat in his room. Thinking. Not eating. Not sleeping. Just trying to work out what to do next. It was as if his brain was still registering the new information. His godfather was dead, …_neither can live while the other survives…_

Slowly but surely, he was driving himself to insanity.

Then, the order appeared at his door. They saw Harry lying on his bed, wasted away. There was nothing of him, it was as if he wasn't still with them… He had left this world. He would never return. Dumbledore would never forgive himself for letting this happen.

They took Harry to headquarters, and sent Remus Lupin to talk to him. The closest thing to Sirius or his father he had. Sirius' death had taken its toll on Lupin, but Lupin did not have to deal with the prophecy…

Lupin had urged him to open up, to say what was running through his mind. Harry continued to stare ahead of him.

Harry was lost. He was lost in his own mind. The thoughts of a teenager can destroy, especially if you are that teenager. It can ruin you for the rest of your life.

Lupin left Harry that night for his bed.

The next day, Harry's friends tried to communicate with him, but to no avail.

Harry wanted to talk. He wanted to be helped. He wanted to escape his mind. But it was too late. He was now incapable of explaining his feelings. He had fallen too deep. The prophecy and Sirius constantly running through his mind. It was driving him mad. He wanted to get it out of his head. He needed something to happen so that he could snap back to his senses. He needed to feel again.

Anything could do it. Something overwhelmingly happy could have saved him or something so shocking that even the maddest of people could regain their sanity.

Unfortunately, it had been the latter.

Lupin had tried to talk to Harry. Most of the words were nothing. Harry could not hear them.

Other words were clear. "_Sirius… Harry…died…Sirius…department of mysteries…Sirius…Blame…"_

Then, for no apparent reason, Harry started to get angry. He couldn't even explain it to himself. For no visible reason, Harry no longer wanted to talk. He wanted to be alone. He did not want help. It was his problem not theirs. Why didn't they mind their own business?

A powerful magic consumed Harry. He had no control. He felt hatred like he had never felt before.

WHY DID LUPIN ALWAYS HAVE TO BUT HIS NOSE IN WHERE IT WASN'T WANTED? He cried to himself angrily.

Harry felt all the magic explode out of him. With the magic, the darkness was taken too. Harry now had a clear head. He could think!

At last! Harry thought. Then he remembered the overwhelming magic that had shot out of him. All that magic had to have gone somewhere.

And it had.

Lying on the floor next to Harry was a clearly dead Remus Lupin.


	2. Chapter 2

Why had he done it?

He asked himself over and over again.

Why? Why? WHY?

Harry would have preferred to stay trapped in his mind rather than kill his father's and godfathers best friend. Remus had only tried to help him.

Harry could not get over the fact that he had murdered.

He could go to Azkaban for that.

He was no longer safe. The rumours spread by the daily prophet last year were becoming real. Harry was scared. He feared himself. He was mentally unstable.

If he had enough power to kill, then what made him different from the many Death Eaters following Voldemort?

He had taken another life.

It would only be a matter of time before an order member would open the door to find out the source of noise that had been made when Harry performed the magic.

Then they would know that Harry had killed. They would not want him. They would fear him like they fear Voldemort.

Harry could not stay here under the watchful eyes the only ones he dared love. He had to run. He had to get away.

He jumped up and sprinted out the door. He sprinted down the stairs of 12 Grimmauld place waking Mrs Black. Harry did not stop.

He heard his name being shouted. But he did not look around.

He kept running.

Soon he was out the front door.

He was sprinting the length of the road.

He did not know where he was running to. The only thing that was certain in his mind was that he could not return. He had to keep running. He could not turn back.

He did not think about where he would spend the night.

He did not think about the many Death Eaters who had set out to bring him to their master.

He completely forgot that the fate of the world rested on his shoulders.

The already tight cloak of emotions tightened as he imagined the look on the Weasleys' face when they saw Remus dead and put two and two together.

He could not face that.

Harry stopped running when he tripped up on a large tree root.

He slammed hard into the ground and felt dirt force its way into his mouth.

Harry sat up gingerly and spat the dirt out of his mouth. Once he recovered some senses, he realised that he was no longer on a busy road full of muggle traffic.

He was in woods.

Harry checked for his wand. Yes. He still had it. At least he could defend himself.

He pulled himself closer to the tree trunk. It gave him a bit of shelter in the unusually hard winds that rarely occurred in summer.

The wind was cold and it bit at his skin. But Harry was glad to feel. He was no longer numb. The memories still hurt, but now he had more pressing matters on his hands.

He had killed.

It struck him.

He was in serious trouble.

What if someone caught him?

No one would believe him that it was an accident.

He should have kept a stronger hold on his emotions.

It was no-ones fault but his.

The man had only been trying to help him and what does Harry do? He kills him.

He had killed someone he loved.

Why had he inflicted more pain among himself?

Why?

Harry huddled closer to the tree.

He did not see how he was going to escape the law. He did not see how he could escape eyes staring at him, constantly thinking ' he's a murderer'.

He did not see how he could save himself from himself.

His mind was a black hole. Dark emotions swarmed it; smothering beneath it the beauty of the Harry people once knew.

When Harry understood what he had done the pain seemed to be ebbing away from him. He began thinking thoughts that would make someone clinically depressed. He began to think about the world if he didn't exist.

He lost the will to live.


	3. Chapter 3

A Teenage Murderer 

**Chapter 3**

**Being Found**

Harry woke up from a short sleep. It had been another dream rotating around the fact that Sirius was dead and the fact that the prophecy referred to him. Now there was a new horror that haunted him. Lupin's murder.

The ground was wet after an unexpected storm, which rarely occurred in the summer.

He was freezing and wet.

And he had nowhere to take shelter.

He had nowhere to run.

He could either show his face to civilisation again, or, he would die right there in the forest. Harry chose the latter.

He wouldn't return to Hogwarts. Every year his life gradually got worse. Part of him wished that his parents really had died in a car crash. He no longer liked being a part of this magical world.

Harry could sit in this forest and remove himself from humanity. If he died, then he would have succeeded in escaping his terrible fate. To kill or to be killed.

If Voldemort just happened to jump out and kill Harry right there and then, Harry didn't think that he would put up much of a fight.

Harry wanted to suffer. He needed to suffer. He had done a terrible thing. Murder. Then he had run. He had run away from the terrible price, which was Azkaban.

He was a coward.

Harry pulled out his wand from his pocket. He pointed it into his own face.

He was angry with himself. He wanted to suffer. He was going to enjoy getting even with himself again.

Before he knew what had hit him, he had muttered the word _crucio._

Pain. Pain beyond pain. A thousand knives were stabbing his skin. He was on fire. The fire was eating away at his skin. The heat reached his bones and the pain was unbearable.

This was his punishment for murder. A meaningless murder that helped no one.

Harry did not know if he was still conscious. But he must have been. No man could sleep when sensing this much pain.

Harry was not aware of his own screaming. He could not see all the movement behind nearby trees. He did not sense the coming of the order.

Harry felt the pain oozing away. The spell had been lifted. He did not know how.

Harry was exhausted. His body was still cringing from the pain.

" Harry!"

Harry's eyes snapped open. At first it was hard to focus, but then the image of Arthur Weasley was clear. Harry was not aware of anyone in the background.

" Harry, we need to get you out of here as soon as possible! We will talk at headquarters!"

Great, Harry thought, more talking.

"Take this portkey!"

Harry Felt a stick force into his hand. The next thing he knew, he was in the kitchen of no.12 Grimmauld Place.

" HARRY!" Harry felt rather than saw a brown bushy haired girl pull him into a strong hug.

Harry did nothing. He did not fight against the hug, but he did not return it either. He found that all the energy had drained out of him.

The girl pulled away and looked into his eyes. The far away look was now absent.

" Harry I know you can hear me! Please say something!" Hermione cried. She was desperate. Harry noticed Hermione was crying.

" I'm sorry." Harry mumbled.

" Oh Harry!" Hermione pulled Harry back into a hug. " Don't feel sorry! Don't feel sorry for anything! You haven't done anything wrong!"

" Yes I have." Harry said quietly. " I'm so sorry for being so stupid and letting Voldemort trick me into going to the department of mysteries! I'm sorry that Sirius died! I'm Sorry I killed Lupin! I'm sorry for everything!"

Harry realised that he had pulled out of the hug and tears were now protruding down his cheeks.

" Harry, it's not your fault that Voldemort tricked you and- wait… what did you say about professor Lupin?"

" I KILLED HIM!"


	4. Chapter 4

A Teenage Murderer 

**Chapter 4**

**Painful Discoveries**

Harry pushed past Hermione and ran up the stairs.

He ran into the bathroom and locked the door. Maybe now he could get some peace. He went over to the mirror above the sink and rested his head against the cool glass. The soothing sensation helped his headache. But only a bit.

Harry felt a sob escape him. He was in for it now. He had confessed to his terrible crime.

How would Ron and Hermione react now they knew he was a murderer? Would they be scared? Did they think he was no longer safe?

He pulled away from the mirror and looked.

He did not recognise his own reflection.

His face was ghostly pale. The skin was just hanging off Harry's bone structure due to the lack of food he had managed to consume without being ill. He had dark rings under his eyes giving the distinct look of someone who had not slept in days-, which in Harry's case was pretty much true.

His eyes were haunted, screaming for release. Could anyone save him from himself?

He hated his reflection. Harry pulled his fist back. He was so angry with himself. Maybe if he destroyed his reflection then he could be normal.

He pushed his fist forward with all his strength.

A crash.

His fist was wet.

Harry looked down at his hand and saw blood. A shooting pain shot up his arm. His face screwed up as he tried to stay in control. For a few seconds he concentrated only on the pain.

He opened his eyes to see the glass.

It had fallen around the sink.

It was on the floor.

It was in his hand.

Blood was dripping into the sink. Crimson liquid pouring down the drain.

Harry turned on the tap to wash away the mess. He washed out the wound on his knuckles. It stung.

Now his hand was clean, how would he get rid of all the glass?

" Harry?"

Harry froze as he heard Molly Weasley's voice.

"Harry dear are you ok? I heard glass breaking."

"Err…yeah, I'm fine. Umm… it's the mirror above the sink. It's shattered."

" Oh, ok dear. Let me in and I'll fix it." Mrs Weasley said kindly

"Right, just give me a minute."

Harry pulled his sleeve down over his bleeding knuckle and double-checked that there was no blood remaining around the sink.

He unlocked the door and stepped out. Mrs Weasley smiled at him and walked into the bathroom. Harry was sure that her smile had been fake.

Just then, Arthur Weasley appeared.

" Come on Harry, we need to talk." Arthur guided Harry into a spare room on his right before he could even begin to protest.

Harry had never seen this room before but he didn't really care.

There wasn't much in the room. Just a couple of chairs and a bookcase.

Mr Weasley sat in a chair and signalled for Harry to sit in another. Harry did so.

His sleeve was still pulled down tightly over his knuckles.

" Harry I understand the last month has been hard. You need to talk to us before it's too late. Bottling up your feelings is not a healthy habit."

Harry stared at the floor. Obviously Mr Weasley got to the point very quickly compared to most other adults.

" This is going to be hard Harry. We are going to talk about Sirius and-"

" I don't want to talk" Harry said Sharply looking back up at Mr Weasley staring him straight in the eye.

" I know this is hard Harry but we can't let-"

" You mean we can't let what happened to Lupin happen again? I DIDN'T MEAN TO! I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!" Harry exploded. His voice rising as he spoke. He was on the verge of breaking down. He wanted out from the hurt, the pain. He knew he had to talk about it but at the moment talking just made him feel worse.

" Harry it wasn't you who killed Remus." Mr Weasley said still remaining calm.

" WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WASN'T ME? I DID IT! I KILLED HIM!"

" It wasn't you Harry it was Voldemort." Mr Weasley's voice hit Harry like an icy punch to the stomach. Harry was now caught off his guard.

" What…how? What do you mean ' it was Voldemort'?" Harry said quietly now looking at Mr Weasley. Harry half expected Mr Weasley to suddenly say 'April Fools!' or something as if it was all just some sick joke.

" Voldemort is controlling you. He is making you do things. You didn't mean to kill Remus. Voldemort used his powers through you."

Harry was suddenly found it very hard to breath.

" But… he can't of possessed me. I'd have known!"

" This is not like what he did to Ginny. It is more like the Imperius curse."

" But I can throw off the Imperius!" Harry needed to find an excuse. Any excuse would do. He was not going to let himself be poisoned by Voldemort's presence any more than he had already been.

" Harry, this is stronger than the Imperius. It's more like a trick of the mind."

" But…but wouldn't occlumency work?" Harry was running out of excuses.

" You would have to be a very skilled occlumens to be able to stop this."

" There's no way I can stop it? That makes me dangerous!"

" Harry you are more of a danger to yourself than to us. When we moved you here from Privet Drive we thought you had driven yourself insane-"

" Do you mean… that was Voldemort?"

" No Harry. You did that yourself .The sad thing is, is that you are dependent on Voldemort to stay sane at the moment. This is why talking is important."

Harry was terribly confused.

" What do you mean? Are you saying, Voldemort's the only thing that's keeping me from losing my mind?"

" When Voldemort made you kill Remus, you woke up from your trance like state. He has his own body but he is also taking advantage of the fact that he can control others. He is using you. He is trying to get you to do the dirty work for him. He is trying to make you kill yourself."


	5. Chapter 5

A Teenage Murderer 

**Chapter 5**

**Thinking**

It took a while for the news to settle in for Harry. To be honest, it never did sink in.

How could Harry tell if it was him that was thinking or Voldemort?

He felt dirty. It was a bit like how he had felt the previous Christmas when he thought Voldemort possessed him. Accept now Harry knew it was real.

He had shut himself in his room. The room in which he had killed Lupin. He tried not to think about that.

After Mr Weasley had told him, Harry didn't want to hear any more. He had run out of the room and entered his old room.

He had only been in there a couple of hours. Just thinking. Then he saw the door open.

Ron entered the room.

He looked at Harry, crossed the room, and sat on the bed next to Harry. Ron appeared nervous.

" Err…Harry, mum says lunch is ready." Ron said tentatively.

Harry continued to stare ahead.

" Harry can you hear me?" Ron asked. He was terrified. Had Harry re-entered madness?

" I hear you. I'm not hungry." Harry finally croaked out, still glaring at the space in front of him.

" Ok. Mum says she will save something for later when you are hungry."

" Right."

Ron got up and left the room.

Harry was alone again. Rain started to hammer against the window. This was turning out to be a truly terrible summer.

Harry didn't know what to think.

'" He is trying to make you kill yourself."'

So what if he killed himself? At least then all this pain would be over. He could be at peace again. He could see Cedric and his parents. He could see Sirius. Harry wondered why he hadn't killed himself earlier. Or why he had not Voldemort do it.

Voldemort. That was why he hadn't done it.

If Harry died then millions more innocent people would die at the hands of Voldemort and his death eaters.

Harry still had to kill Voldemort. He still had to fulfil the prophecy. It would be selfish to kill himself and leave the world living in peril because of Voldemort.

But what was the point in killing him? Voldemort isn't the only dark wizard. As soon as Voldemort is defeated then surely someone else would replace him. Would Harry have to kill them too?

After all, they will probably take the title as being the new 'Dark Lord'. Could the prophecy include any Dark Lord or did it pacifically mean Voldemort?

Maybe Voldemort wasn't the Dark Lord Harry was meant to defeat. Maybe 'Dark Lord' was just a name someone used to give to his or her pet? Dumbledore could have got it all wrong. It may have meant Harry had to 'defeat' a puppy or something.

Or maybe, it didn't mean a puppy or Voldemort. Maybe 'Dark Lord' meant the entire evil race. Maybe Harry was the one to completely destroy evil and wipe it from existence.

But no one could completely get rid of evil.

Even the 'Hero's' could be evil.

Even though killing a puppy would be easier than killing the most powerful wizard on the planet Harry knew that he couldn't even hope. He knew Dumbledore would have thought up all the alternatives Dumbledore would have tried to save Harry from his destiny. The one thing Harry couldn't get his head around was the question ' why me?' The prophecy could have so easily meant someone else. Harry was just an ordinary wizarding boy- or at least he would have been if the prophecy chose someone else. What made him so special?

Harry wondered if he would prefer this burden to be placed on somebody else's shoulders. Then he realised that he couldn't wish it on anybody.

He preferred to suffer himself rather than put anyone else in his situation.

Harry decided that no matter how much pain he felt, he could not let more people suffer.

The sooner he killed Voldemort, the better. And, if Harry was lucky, maybe he too could be killed in the process. At least then he could save the world and end his pathetic excuse of a life.


	6. Chapter 6

A Teenage Murderer 

**Chapter 6**

**Trying to eat**

Harry was woken from his day dream when the door opened. Harry slowly turned his head to see Molly Weasley standing in the doorway. She walked over next to the bed.

" Come on now Harry, dinner is ready." She said in a soft tone.

Harry shook his head. " would you mind if I skipped dinner tonight mrs Weasley? I'm not feeling so good." Harry croaked.

" All the more reason for you to eat. I always found that feeding Ron when he was ill made him instantly better. It's the best cure." Mrs Weasley ushered for Harry to stand up.

Harry decided not to point out the fact that Ron could never turn down food even if he was ill. Harry slowly picked himself up. He felt so tired. He just wanted to go to sleep.

Harry slowly walked out of the bedroom after Mrs Weasley.

When Harry walked into the kitchen several heads turned to look at him. It may have been silent, but Harry was not aware of anything anyway. He walked, trance like into the spare seat next to Ron and sat down heavily.

Ron tried indulging Harry in a conversation, but his words just ran off of him. They didn't register in his mind. Ron eventually gave up and started talking to Hermione. Harry did not know or care if they were talking about him.

Harry found his mouth was dry. He didn't want to eat. He was too tired to eat. All he wanted to do was fall asleep and never wake up. His eyes began to droop. The he felt someone shaking his shoulder.

Mr Weasley indicated to his food. His words only just penetrated to his brain. " Come on Harry, eat."

Harry picked up his fork. He didn't want to eat but they weren't going to let him be until he had. He piled on a small piece of mashed potato, which would look light and fluffy but because of his state it looked like a strange gravely substance.

Harry placed it in his mouth and tried to swallow. He couldn't. The solid food made him gag. He tried to control himself so he wouldn't be sick at the dinner table. Harry ran out the room as fast as he could and went into the nearest bathroom.

He ran straight over to the toilet and was sick. It was painfull. It was worse than it was when he did it after those nightmares. At least then he had something to bring up. Harry had no food to bring up now. Instead, the acid from his stomach lining gushed out of his mouth, burning his throat.

He felt so weak.

When he finally managed to stop, he pulled back his head and curled up on the floor. He rested his head against the cool wall. He felt so ill. Why did he have to suffer so much? He knew why. It was because he was the ----ing boy who lived. Nothing in his life could be good. He wasn't even allowed a guardian.

Fresh tears now began to pour out of Harry's eyes as he remembered Sirius and Lupin. Harry let out a few sobs as he thought about how much he missed them.

Then he abruptly stopped.

He did not deserve the chance to morn. It was his fault they were dead anyway. Why should he be upset when it was his fault they were dead anyway?

Harry did not know what to do now. He could not eat, he could not sleep and he could not look anyone in the eye. _My life is officially messed up._ Harry thought. _Now I know how suicidal's feel._

With that last thought, he fell unconscious.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Only the beginning

When Harry woke up, he found himself lying on his bed. He rolled onto his side and looked around the room. He was alone.

Harry used all of his remaining energy and pushed himself up into the sitting position. He quickly shut his eyes as the blood rushed out of his head.

When he no longer felt faint, he opened his eyes again.

He tried to stand up and he felt his legs buckle as his stomach gave another loud rumble.

He lifted his hand and saw that it was shaking. His body was reacting to the lack of sugar, and Harry felt terrible.

_The one to vanquish the Dark Lord…_The prophecy rang loud in his mind.

Harry didn't want to think about that. He tried to push it to the back of his mind.

_Concentrate on something else!_ He told himself fiercely. He knew he needed to do something.

_I know what I'll do; I'll go and have something to eat…_

Harry walked out the door and started to walk down the stairs. It was early in the morning. Everyone else was obviously in bed.

Harry walked into the Kitchen and switched the light on.

He blinked for a few seconds as his eyes grew accustomed to the bright light.

When Harry could see again, he stumbled over to the fridge- being completely ignorant of what had occurred last night.

Two minutes later, Harry was comfortably eating toast and a glass of milk. This time, he felt no urge to run to the nearest toilet so he could puke. He was able to eat in peace.

After that, Harry ran the tap so he could wash up his glass.

"Hello Harry."

Harry spun around quickly, his breath caught in his throat.

Standing in the doorway was Mr Weasley, dressed in his wizarding robes.

"Hello." Harry said tonelessly.

"I was just about to leave for work." Mr Weasley said as to explain being already dressed. "Did you sleep well?"

"Ok, I guess" Harry said, though there was still something odd about your voice.

"Good, good. Well, I'll be off! Stay out of trouble!" Mr Weasley left the room with a cheery smile and left Harry alone.

Harry continued to wash up his glass and then put it away.

He wondered what to do next.

'Lets go outside' a voice inside Harry's head said. Harry pulled open the front door and walked out and was met with fresh morning air.

Harry breathed deeply and the air filled his lungs.

Harry sat on a bench opposite where 12 Grimmauld place was positioned.

He gently closed his eyes for a few minutes. The birds sang as he felt the wind blow in his hair, and …a chill going down his spine…

Harry opened his eyes.

A girl was sitting next to him. She had brown, midlength hair and was wearing a simple dress of purple velvet. She was the same age as Harry.

"Err-hello." Harry said awkwardly.

"Goodbye." The girl said tonelessly.

She pulled out a large kitchen knife. Before Harry could run, the girl plunged the knife deep into Harry's stomach.

Harry screamed.

Blood flowed freely down his front.

"What-" Harry tried to grunt, but he was cut off with another blow of the knife.

"Don't talk. You are such a fool Potter!" The girl sneered. "And so weak!"

Harry gasped as he felt another hole being made in him.

"You will be the dark Lord's. You can never escape his power! I'll get you were ever you are! You will never be safe!"

She plunged the knife into Harry's shoulder and Harry screamed once more.

"Does it hurt? Poor Harry! You better get used to it! You're going to die soon! You know it!" The girl giggled. "You won't live to your next birthday!"

The girl pulled out her bloodied knife and giggled once more.

X X X

THUD

Hermione fell out of her bed. "Ouch!" she gasped.

She picked herself up off of the floor.

She walked over to the window and opened the curtains, letting warm, morning light illuminate the room.

She heard a scream.

Her eyes darted to a bench outside.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed. A girl was sitting over Harry, a knife raised in her hand. Harry had blood gushing out of his stomach.

The girly dropped the knife once more into Harry's stomach.

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs. She saw Harry fall off the bench and then she ran down the stairs at full speed screaming "MRS WEASLEY! COME QUICK!"

Hermione ran outside and ran over to the bench. The girl looked at Hermione and giggled.

"YOU-"

Hermione didn't manage to finish her sentence as the girl vanished into the air.

Hermione looked down at Harry's gasping form.

Harry groaned with the pain of each breath.

"It's ok Harry! Just stay calm! Don't panic!" Hermione said almost hysterically.

Mrs Weasley ran out the front door and grew very pale as she looked on at the scene.

"Harry!"

A cold voice then rang through the air:

"Say your goodbyes now. This is only the beginning…"


End file.
